


Happy Birthday!

by Narassi



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Canon-typical language, Gen, Minor Angst, brief mentions of red team, like barely any at all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2016-02-22
Packaged: 2018-05-22 14:21:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6082632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Narassi/pseuds/Narassi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Washington didn’t usually sleep in. Therefore it was a surprise for him to wake up and see 11:34 on his little clock. Wash blinked and rubbed his face a few times before squinting at the clock again. 11:34, it read. It was morning. Almost noon. How? He listened for any noise—any!—and heard nothing.</p><p>Wash narrowed his eyes in suspicion. His alarm had been shut off. Caboose hadn’t made any noise. Tucker hadn’t yelled at Caboose. The two hadn’t gotten into a single fight the whole morning. A feeling of dread surged through Wash’s veins. Had something happened to them? Were they okay? He rose from his bed and opened his door a crack. Nothing. No sound, no arguments, nothing. </p><p>Or, Wash is terrified by his teammates' plan to give him a day off.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Birthday!

**Author's Note:**

> I have this headcanon that Wash never had a stable or loving family growing up, and that he tends to be forgotten by the people he designates as his family and friends.  
> I didn't pay too much attention to the timeline when writing this...Freckles the Talking Gun makes an appearance even though Red and Blue teams have separate bases.  
> Try to take the timeline (or lack thereof) with a grain of salt. If you really hate it that much...I can take Freckles out. Don't make me take Freckles out!  
> Also, I'm the only one who proofreads these. Any mistakes are mine, and I apologize for them.  
> Enjoy!

Washington didn’t usually sleep in. 

He always rose with the sun. It was a habit left over from his Freelancer days. Aboard the Mother of Invention, no one ever slept in for multiple reasons. One: Carolina liked to have everyone train in the morning, when no one was tired from the events of the day. Two: the Director forbade it. Three: someone always woke up everyone else by yelling at whoever had played a prank on them during the night. It was usually North and South, although Wash had his own fair share of rude wakeups. Being the rookie, he was often at the butt end of practical jokes. 

Besides, now Wash needed to be able to train by himself. Sure, he could train with distractions, but Tucker and Caboose’s constant bickering was not something he wanted to deal with while training. He enjoyed the peace and quiet in the morning. No one at red base was ever awake as early as he (except Donut on some occasions), so he was able to do his work without fear of interruption or getting shot at (or more likely yelled at). 

Wash had learned the hard way that mornings at blue base were never quiet. Caboose woke everyone up with him. Tucker would yell at Caboose instead of going back to sleep. Wash would then be forced to intervene before the two hurt each other. Then there was the ordeal of breakfast. No one ever wanted to cook, and Wash quickly got tired of cooking for the two. A full-scale argument would end with the loser cooking breakfast. Caboose would set the kitchen on fire. Tucker would cook inedible slop. And so Wash would be left to his own breakfast after—guess what?—more arguing. 

Wash learned to stay out of blue base in the mornings. 

Therefore it was a surprise for him to wake up and see 11:34 on his little clock. Wash blinked and rubbed his face a few times before squinting at the clock again. 11:34, it read. It was morning. Almost noon. How? He listened for any noise—any!—and heard nothing. 

Wash narrowed his eyes in suspicion. His alarm had been shut off. Caboose hadn’t made any noise. Tucker hadn’t yelled at Caboose. The two hadn’t gotten into a single fight the whole morning. A feeling of dread surged through Wash’s veins. Had something happened to them? Were they okay? He rose from his bed and opened his door a crack. Nothing. No sound, no arguments, nothing. He quietly slipped out, closing his door again behind him. 

A quick peek in Tucker’s room revealed that the teal soldier wasn’t there. Caboose wasn’t in his room either. Wash checked the bathroom—still nothing. He very quietly peeked around the hallway corner and into the kitchen/dining /living room. No one in sight. A quick look revealed that there was no one on the roof, either. 

Wash went back into his own room and donned his armor. While walking out the door, he spied a note on the doorframe. Written in sloppy penmanship was, “We’ll be back, don’t worry.” Tucker’s handwriting. Wash sighed in relief and walked outside to train. 

While doing pushups, suspicion hit Wash like a brick. What were Caboose and Tucker doing away from the base? What were they getting into? Would the two kill each other before they got back? When would they get back? Why didn’t they tell him? He nearly groaned aloud. There was nothing he could do except wait—and hope that whatever the two were doing wouldn’t kill him when they got back. 

He finished his daily workout, ate a meager breakfast, and then settled on the roof, safely hidden from sight. He figured that, even if Tucker and Caboose couldn’t notice him, he’d hear their bickering from a mile away. The sun felt nice, if a little hot, and so he took off his helmet and basked in the sunlight. When was the last time he’d just relaxed? Wash couldn’t remember. It was peaceful up on the roof. And cozily warm in the sunlight. 

“Uh...Wash? Wake up?” Wash jolted awake with wide eyes and a startled exclamation. The sun was a little lower than it had been when he settled down on the roof, and Tucker knelt in front of him. When had he fallen asleep? And more importantly—

“Where have you two been?!” Wash burst out, “You haven’t been here all day!” Caboose stood a little behind Tucker, with his hands behind his back and looking down as if ashamed. 

“Did you have a good morning and afternoon?” Tucker asked instead. 

“I—” Wash considered the question. Now that he thought about it, “Yes, I did. It was peaceful. I slept in.” Wash almost smiled before his eyes narrowed. “Why?”

Tucker took off his helmet to reveal a bright grin. “Oh, nothing. No reason.” 

“No reason at all.” Caboose said quietly. 

The teal soldier shrugged. “We just thought maybe we should make today special.” He kept grinning at Wash—and the grin had turned from ‘Tucker is happy’ to ‘Tucker knows something you don’t’. 

“What did you do?” Wash demanded, “Do I even want to know?” 

Tucker just laughed. “Ready Caboose?” He asked as he turned to the soldier in question. Caboose nodded, and Tucker proceeded to count on his fingers, 1...2...

Washington didn’t know if he’d ever been so terrified in his life. 

...3

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” Both Tucker and Caboose cheered ecstatically. Caboose revealed he had been holding a cake and his gun behind his back. Caboose extended the cake towards Wash in his left hand while pointing his gun at Wash as well, and Wash tried to duck and cover his face at the same time as Caboose pulled the trigger. 

Instead of a gunshot, a high pitched wine sounded. Wash glanced up over his hands to see a shower of multicolored confetti. “Happy Birthday Agent Washington” Freckles’ robotic voice came from the gun. Wash sighed heavily in relief and looked back up at the cake. 

It was...a disaster, really. It had pink, grey, yellow, and three shades of blue frostings all patched together around the cake. ‘Happy B-Day Wash’ was written shakily in more frosting. The cake itself was falling apart and melting in the sun’s heat. 

Wash had never seen something that made him happier. 

“You guys...remembered my birthday?” Wash asked a little uncertainly. The Freelancers had certainly never done that. 

Tucker blinked and cocked his head to one side. “Well, yeah! Of course we did!” 

Wash hesitated. “And...made me a cake?”

Tucker glanced at the misshapen cake and then back to Wash. “Uh, duh. That’s how you celebrate birthdays! We also let you sleep in and not have to deal with us arguing. Why, what’s wrong?”

Wash reached out and accepted the cake from Caboose, and then shrugged. “I, uh, haven’t celebrated my birthday in a long time.” He didn’t explain how people generally forgot it was his birthday, but Tucker seemed to get the idea. “Did...Donut help you with this?”

Tucker snickered. “Yeah. How’d you guess?” 

Wash laughed aloud. “Well, for one, there’s pink on it. No one on blue team would dare put pink on...anything. No one on red team would either, except for Donut.” Tucker laughed as well. “And besides...I think it’s safe to say that Donut is the only person here who knows how to bake a cake.”

Tucker snorted. “Yeah, you’re probably right. Sorry it’s a little...uh, fally-aparty. Sarge caught us in his kitchen and tried to shoot us, but ended up shooting the cake. We removed the bullet and all the parts of the cake that were touched by it, but the cake, uh...yeah. You get the point.” Wash snickered, picturing the scene. “We explained what we were doing, and he let us stay, though. He even said to say ‘Happy Birthday’. Grif and Simmons, too. And maybe Lopez—I’m not sure. Oh, and Doc, too.” 

Wash let a small, happy grin work its way onto his face. He hadn’t celebrated his birthday in years. To have someone remember—and more pitch in to make it special—gave him a warm, fuzzy feeling in his stomach. He hadn’t felt so content in years. 

“Can we eat the cake now?” Caboose asked, “Tucker promised we would eat the cake. I like cake.”

Wash nodded. “Of course we can! Why don’t you take this into the living room, and we’ll all eat some?” Caboose nodded and happily took the cake away. As soon as Wash stood, he was squeezed into a tight embrace. “Tucker?” The teal soldier held him tightly. 

“I know you had shitty excuses for family for most of your life. At least, that’s what I’ve heard from Church—Epsilon—and Carolina. And we may not be the best family ever, but we’re still a family. We’re annoying and unstable, but a loyal and...lively family. And you can’t leave. Ever. Got it?” The question was accompanied by an even tighter squeeze. 

Wash chuckled. “Got it.” 

Tucker pulled away to grin at him, and then dashed away. “Then let’s go eat! I want cake!” 

“And Tucker?” The teal soldier paused and looked back from the doorway. “Thanks.” 

“Any time!” Tucker disappeared off the roof. 

Wash chuckled again as he joined the two—his family—in the living room. Caboose had made a huge mess while trying to cut the cake, but the lump Wash was given was still edible. 

A little while later, Wash smiled as the three of them lounged in the living room. He was full of cake, and had leaned back against the pillows on the couch with his arms back behind his head. Caboose lay on his stomach on the floor, occupied with whatever he was drawing. Tucker was attempting to coach Caboose—though he was mostly ignored—while finishing his second serving of cake. Wash felt content and safe and...happy...for the first time in a very long while. He dozed lightly, his body relishing both the cake and the rest. 

“Are you okay?” Tucker’s question roused Wash from his rest. 

“Huh? Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” He sat up and asked. 

“Well...” Tucker shrugged, “I mean, you’ve slept a lot today. And, uh, you’re smiling. You don’t usually smile.” Wash chuckled. “Or laugh.”

Wash shrugged as well. “I guess I’ve pushed myself a bit hard lately. I haven’t slept for long periods of time, either.” 

Tucker pursed his lips. “Dude, you gotta chill sometimes! Relax!”

“What do you think I’m doing now?” Wash shot back. 

Tucker rolled his eyes. “I mean more than once per year. Like...maybe once per week. Or per day. That’s what I do!”

Wash shrugged. “I like to stay active. But I’ll try. As for the smiling...” He closed his eyes and leaned back again, “...I’m just happy.”

Wash had never been happier.

**Author's Note:**

> Come visit me on tumblr! agentfrecklelancer.tumblr.com


End file.
